


i build myself up and fly around in circles

by thisissirius



Series: Dance in Clouds (or Five Suits/PERN aus) [1]
Category: Dragonriders of Pern - Anne McCaffrey, Suits (TV)
Genre: Dragons, F/F, F/M, M/M, Mating Flight
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2011-09-14
Updated: 2011-09-14
Packaged: 2017-10-23 17:53:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,424
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/253156
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thisissirius/pseuds/thisissirius
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>when h'vey and his bronze are saved during threadfall by a green, he won't rest until he knows the identity of her rider. the bond that forms between them will threaten h'vey's chance at becoming weyrleader.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. thread score

**Author's Note:**

> i love the pern series despite it's failings. i love the idea of PERN aus and won't rest until i have written one for every fandom that i love :P i had five scenarios that i just couldn't let rest, therefore this is now a series /0\

Threadfall was early. It wasn’t a new occurrence but the Northern Weyr’s were usually better at informing the Southern continent of impending threats.That didn’t mean H’vey would let them off lightly, and he would definitely be sending a dragonrider to let the northern Weyr’s know just how much H’vey _didn’t_ appreciate being the last to know about Threadfall.

Jessica was willing to leave that side of things to him, even though he wasn’t a Weyrleader yet.

“You know,” Donna said conversationally, staring out at the ledge, where H’vey’s Dragon was sunning himself. “It’s only a matter of time before Pearth rises to mate and then you _will_.”

H’vey raised an eyebrow. Sometimes he wondered just which of them wanted him to be Weyrleader the most. “Really? And how do you know that?”

Donna snorted. “Please. Direth is too old to fly Pearth anymore and there isn’t another Dragon that can take on Specteth in a mating flight. _If_ you would get over yourself and stop holding back.”

“I don’t hold back,” H’vey snapped and donned his riding wear. Thread was already hitting the far side of Pearson Hold and he had the time. Now that their Dragons had perfected the art of timing it, getting to the Hold before the destructive organism wasn’t going to be a problem.

“No,” Donna agreed slowly. “You just prefer the thrill of a green.”

H’vey gave her a smile that was all teeth and tugged on his riding boots. Specteth raised his head and peered back into the weyr, his wings starting to unfurl lazily. It had been a warm day and one of H’vey’s only free ones but Thread didn’t have the capacity for caring. Donna gave him one last look and then disappeared back into the caverns to rule her domain with an iron fist. He grinned and stepped outside, resting a hand on the ridge of Specteth’s neck. “Come on.”

 _I’m tired,_ his Dragon supplied, lowering his neck none the less and allowing H’vey to climb on. _I was looking forward to a rest._

“Then I’ll leave it to you to berate the northern Weyr’s for not letting us know.”

H’vey smirked at the rumbling answer of laughter from his Dragon as they launched off of the ledge and into the air.

 

 

 

He felt the sear of Thread before he felt it. Heard the shrill scream of Specteth before he let himself yell out. It _burnt_ . It wasn’t the first time he had ever been injured by Thread but this felt worse and he knew to go _between_ , knew that it was the only way to get the Thread off but more was coming and H’vey couldn’t think straight beyond the feel of fire and pain on his face.

 _Roth!_ He heard the name dully and then a thud as a Dragon collided with them. H’vey didn’t have the energy to berate the rider or snap at them before he heard, _DO NOT STAY_ BETWEEN _._

That thought resonated with H’vey and Specteth both before they were _between_. It was cold, beyond freezing, and his fingers felt like they were stuck to Specteth’s neck but he knew better than to linger. He didn’t want to die even while it _hurt_ .H’vey could barely focus enough to realise the Thread had been frozen and fallen away, before they were bursting back into the sky above the bowl at Pearson Weyr. They went crashing io the ground, sliding through the sand and coming to rest at the edge of the cliff.

H’vey caught a flash of green in his vision and heard Specteth’s rumble of, _I am alive, I am fine_ as he slipped into unconsciousness.

 

 

 

Jessica strolled into his weyr, hands on her hips and expression grim. H’vey had spent two sevenday’s with numbweed covering almost half his face and he was steadily losing the will to live. If he didn’t get out of the weyr soon, he was going to go crazy. That, or launch himself off of the ledge.

 _You won’t do that,_ Specteth commented slowly. _I would not allow it._

H’vey snorted. At Jessica’s raised eyebrow he shrugged slowly. “What?”

“How are you feeling?”

H’vey gestured to his face. “My face was on fire.”

Used to his sarcastic replies and evasive answers, Jessica just walked the length of the weyr, hovering in the entrance and remaining a safe distance away from Specteth. His bronze hide glowed brightly in the sun, no longer pale from injury, but he regarded Jessica with a steady gaze. H’vey didn’t bother to berate his Dragon for being deliberately disrespectful of the Weyrwoman. He was getting annoyed himself.

“You could have been killed,” Jessica said. “What were you thinking, straying that far from the safety of the wing?”

H’vey didn’t bother to reply. He had no explanation that Jessica would want to hear. She tired easily of his feud with the weyrlingmaster and he wasn’t about to fuel the fire.

Sighing, Jessica gestured at Specteth. “He could have been killed, H’vey.”

Specteth rumbled but said nothing and H’vey shook his head. “I wouldn’t have let that happen. Tell me what you’re really worried about, Jessica. Afraid that leaving the wing isn’t good Weyrleader material?”

The expression on Jessica’s face was infinitely worse than just anger and irritation but H’vey had seen it too many times to be affected by it. “It’s _not_ , H’vey, but you know me better than to think I would be angry with you about this for that reason! I didn’t get you here for you to throw it all away on some green.”

H’vey opened his mouth and found he had nothing to say.

“Oh, you think I didn’t know? Lucky for you, that _green_ saved your life.”

So. _Well,_ Specteth said, an edge to his tone. _That explains that._

His reply lacked the usual degradation it did when a bronze spoke about a green but then Specteth had been mating them long enough that he could override the ingrained structure system. He tilted his head a little and H’vey smothered a laugh. They both preferred the challenge and feisty way a green would answer a bronze in a mating flight as they rarely, if ever, got the chance to mate beyond a brown. It left H’vey with no limit of partners available to him. This green in particular, however, had been evading his attempts at coercion. It didn’t help that he still had no clue who her rider was.

“She’s always on the edges,” H’vey said, almost to himself. “However, that _wasn’t_ the reason I was distracted during Threadfall, Jessica. You know me better than that.”

She wanted to believe him and he knew it.

“You should ask Louis if you want the real reason I was alone during that particular instance. The green and her rider just happened to be in the right place at the right time.”

Jessica regarded him thoughtfully for a moment.

 _She wants to believe us,_ Specteth said. _Pearth says she’s reluctant to berate Louis for this because of the Weyrlings._

 _She’s going to have to learn how,_ H’vey said. Aloud to Jessica, he said, “You know as well as I do that if you leave this unchecked, he’s going to teach the Weyrlings all of his bad habits.”

He stood slowly, testing his face gently for the still-affected areas and shrugged his way into his riding jacket. Jessica didn’t stop him from leaving the weyr and H’vey lingered only long enough to promise Specteth that he would be back shortly. He needed to find Donna; there was a green rider that he wanted to speak to.


	2. the green rider

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> h'vey finds his rider

The lower caverns of Pearson Weyr were usually easy for H’vey to avoid. Donna usually understood his reluctance to venture out of his weyr for anything not Weyr-related and had dinner, _klah_ and anything else necessary to his continued comfort sent up with one of the weyrbrats. Usually, she sent it up with the blonde-haired kid with the smart mouth. H’vey hadn’t seen him in a while but he wasn’t attached and one weyrbrat was as good as another. However, Donna never came when he called and he wanted to do without her shoving him back into bed when it was _face_ which still brunt the damage of Thread. He was in pain, not incapable.

 _The rest has been good,_ Specteth chided him gently. Ignoring his Dragon, H’vey entered the kitchen and wrinkled his nose almost immediately. Weyrfolk were busy with the upcoming dinner and H’vey had to shrink back against the wall to get out of the way of two women carrying a sack between them. They let out a hurried apology which H’vey waved off.

“If you’re looking for Donna,” one of the girls muttered, “She’s in the stores with that Rider.”

Her reply carried the usual respect but it was also laden with heat, almost as if _that rider_ was someone the women knew well, and not always for his heroic deeds. H’vey raised an eyebrow but the woman was already gone. Deciding that he’d like to know this rider too, H’vey made his way across the kitchen minefield and into the stores.

“Donna, there’s someone-” H’vey cut off when he saw Donna standing over a blond-haired rider, bandages in her hand. Looking exasperated, Donna shook her head angrily but it was the panicked look on the rider’s face that made H’vey snort. “I wondered where you had got to.”

It was his former weyrbrat. So. The kid went and got himself Impressed.

“Well,” the kid said, recovering well from his surprise. “I did tell you even a green would want a ‘scrawny little runt’ like me.”

H’vey grinned and deliberately ignored Donna’s pointed look. “Green’s take anyone, kid.”

There was a rumble of admonishment from Specteth but H’vey ignored it. He meant nothing by the remark and if the twinkle in the kid’s eye was anything to go by, he knew it too. Usually, H’vey would be rankled by the idea of anyone truly knowing parts of him, but the weyrbrat - rider now - had more than proved his merit, despite his constant lateness and smart remarks.

“ _H’vey_ ,” Donna snapped. “If you don’t mind, I’m trying to wrap his injuries.”

H’vey leaned against the wall. “I’m not going to stop you. I need your help.”

Donna snorted but pushed the rider’s tunic further up his shoulder. Ignoring H’vey, she tapped the kid on the shoulder, her expression tight. “I still don’t know why you won’t see an actual _healer_.”

“They’ll just berate me again,” the kid complained. “If I go with another injury, Jenni will probably strangle me with my own riding straps.”

H’vey, intrigued to learn that the kid had been injured before, carefully kept his attention on the conversation. He looked too old to be a weyrling but he was a greenrider and they were more often than not the last line of defence between thread and Pern. They were hardly ever in a position for injury. If he was new to fighting Thread, barely a Turn or so older than the Weyrlings, then he should have been well out of danger. Either H’vey was going to have to have words with L’is _again_ , or the kid was in a place he shouldn’t have been.

Donna applied the salve with a care she never used on _him_ and H’vey figured it was the blue eyes. They were more than a little expressive and H’vey wouldn’t be surprised if the kid had admirers littered throughout the Weyr.

“So, stop getting into trouble.”

“Easy for you to say,” the rider said. “It’s not my fault I have to save riders from straying out of their wings.”

At that, H’vey raised an eyebrow. “I’m sure they don’t make a habit of it.”

The rider jumped, almost as if H’vey startled him, and he shrugged a little. “You’d know.”

Something about the words, about the whole conversation, had H’vey frowning. Donna cut in before H’vey could ask, but it was only to pat the rider on the back and shoulder her way past H’vey. “Come and find me when you’re done.”

She gave him a pointed look but H’vey focused back on the rider. “What’s your dragon’s name?”

“Roth,” the kid answered almost immediately. “Why?”

“You,” H’vey accused. “You’re the rider of that green!”

The kid stood, shrugging a little and wincing at the pull on his shoulder. “You’re welcome,” he bit out, glaring. “ _That green_ is my dragon and she deserves some of the thanks.”

 _Roth thinks it’s funny. She says that M’ke isn’t really angry._ H’vey rolled his eyes at his dragon’s words and gave the kid a once over. M’ke?

“ _Thank you_ ,” H’vey said, sarcastically. Now that he had M’ke here, he didn’t know what to say. A weyrbrat who couldn’t time keep well, was clumsy more times than he wasn’t, and spent half the time in H’vey’s weyr berating his life choices, had become a dragonrider to the only green who _didn’t_ want Specteth. “So. This green of yours-”

“Roth,” M’ke corrected automatically.

H’vey raised an eyebrow. “ _Roth_. When does she-"

“If the next words out of your mouth are asking about her mating flights, I will wish I had never saved you from Thread.”

Not believing the threat for a second, H’vey snorted and pushed open the door, deliberately holding it open so that M’ke would have no choice but to walk through first. “That wasn’t my question. Although I think you’ve already asked it for me. She hasn’t risen to mate yet.”

M’ke’s face was far too expressive - a habit H’vey was going to have to break him of. When he said so aloud, M’ke opened and closed his mouth twice before managing to get out, “ _break me of_? I’m not your rider to control, H’vey.”

“Oh?” H’vey kept pace with M’ke until that were back into he main caverns of the weyr, a gesture to Donna to explain that he would find her later. “Maybe I’ll have a talk with Jessica, see what she says about your switching wings.”

M’ke paled at H’vey’s mention of the Weyrwoman and H’vey silently enjoyed the shift of emotions on the kid’s face.

 _Another project, H’vey?_ Specteth asked tiredly.

 _Don’t pretend you don’t find Roth a challenge._

The answering rumble of affection was clear and H’vey put a hand on the back of M’ke’s neck, guiding him towards the outer bowl. Project or challenge, every moment of M’ke’s company was going to make H’vey’s life a little brighter.


End file.
